


Mischief Night

by darkrosaleen



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Crossdressing, Halloween, Hand Jobs, M/M, Murder, Period Typical Attitudes, Prostitution Roleplay, Samhain, Using a slutty costume to hook up with a hot stranger, Victorian Street Gangs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 12:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21253145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrosaleen/pseuds/darkrosaleen
Summary: On a dark Samhain night in the city, E.C. takes the opportunity for a bit of fun.





	Mischief Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skazka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skazka/gifts).

> I couldn't resist the combination of street ruffian E.C. + pagan ritual violence + culturally sanctioned mischief. Happy Samhain!

Hallow's Eve was the best night of the year for Edward's gang. There were a lot of Irish in this part of Manchester, and the Irish always seemed to him half pagan at least, muttering about fairies and spirits and good or bad luck.

The heathen Celts used to slaughter people on Samhain, slicing their throats and spraying blood over the sacred bonfire to ensure a good harvest. At least that's what Rosie Houlihan told him. The idea fascinated Edward, the heathen exchange of blood for grain and death for life. He tried not to let his excitement show on his face, but he didn't try too hard, because Rosie was just as ghoulish if not worse.

Rosie gave Edward his guise this year, a tattered red frock and petticoat that had become too short for her (it was exactly the right length on Edward, and he was losing hope that he'd ever outgrow it). He shaved his whiskers and rouged his cheeks, and Rosie said he could almost pass for a real harlot, if an ugly one nobody would pay for.

The others had great fun treating him like a lady, and Edward found himself swishing the red skirts back and forth, smiling coyly at the boys to make them squirm. Rosie's cousin Liam was visiting from Liverpool, and he had the most fun of all, kissing Edward's hand and wrapping a strong arm around his thin, beskirted waist. Edward relished the spiteful glares this earned him; all the girls were fond of Liam, with his sparkling blue eyes and charming grin.

The girls cajoled Edward into divining the name of his future bride with an apple peel. He obediently took the long slice of peel and threw it over his shoulder, and there was a mad scuffle as everyone gathered to see the shape it made.

"I think it's a B," Tall Jack said. "Perhaps you'll take a wife named Bridget."

Edward gasped in feigned horror, holding a hand to his chest. "I am a _lady_, young sir, I most definitely will not be taking a _wife_." He let disgust creep into this final word, and Liam apparently found this humorous, because he stifled a giggle in his shirtsleeve. Suddenly, Edward felt terribly wicked. "I think I'm to marry a Billy. What do you think, Mr. Houlihan?"

Liam gave him a grin that made Edward's legs wobble. "I think Billy's short for William, as is Liam, and therefore that is a very imprudent question for a lady to ask."

Edward grinned back and swished his skirts again. "Look again at the color of my dress, sir. Do I look like a lady to you?"

Having had enough of watching her clothing slandered, Rosie encouraged the group to don their guises and head out into the street. There were plenty of old Irish grandmothers who would give them cakes for asking nicely, and they had masks to hide behind when their niceness ran out.

Liam grabbed Edward by the arm and hauled him into an alley, separating him from his gang. He pressed Edward back against the bricks and just looked at him, peering down with a curiously fond expression. "You like playing a lady," Liam said, tracing the edge of the dress's low neckline. "How'd you like to play a whore?"

Something hot and wonderful shivered through Edward's body. He looked up coyly through his lashes, fumbling with the fastening of Liam's trousers. "Shall I give you a friendly hand, sir? It won't cost much."

Liam's prick was quite large, and Edward's stomach fluttered as he felt his way around the shape of it, pulling up and down on the foreskin. Liam leaned his arms against the wall, blocking Edward in with the heavy press of muscle and masculine sweat.

The member in his hand throbbed and twitched like a living creature, and tugging on it made Liam groan and shove his hips closer, rutting against the voluminous ruffles of Edward's skirts. Edward felt like he could be crushed by Liam's big body, but he also felt the softness of the thing in his hand, and how easy it would be to squeeze or rip and ruin Liam's manhood forever.

Liam was too tall to bury his face in Edward's neck, but he tried his best, rubbing his whiskers against the freshly smooth skin of Edward's cheek. The thing in his hand grew slippery, and Edward could feel Liam's deep groans rumbling through his chest. Edward's breathing went shaky at the feeling of being trapped, but being pressed to death by a handsome boy was far from the worst way to die.

"You can have my mouth," Edward whispered into Liam's chest, "but my cunny costs extra."

Liam yelped and spasmed in Edward's hand, shooting spunk all over his dress. Edward watched with fascination as it spurt from Liam's prick, sliding down his hand and catching the lamplight with a curious, shiny glow. Liam slumped against the wall as if he were dead, breathing like a great workhorse.

Edward's own prick was so hard he thought he might faint. The warm, heavy weight of Liam's body excited him more, and Edward tilted his head up to kiss his whiskered jaw, fumbling with the many layers of fabric around his legs.

When Edward got his prick out and rocked it into the solid warmth of Liam's body, Liam suddenly stepped back, leaving Edward bare to the street and the cold. "You misunderstood. I'm not a molly boy."

It was cold without Liam's body heat, and anyone who saw him with his cock out would know he wasn't a regular night woman, but Edward wasn't inclined to cover up again. "But you'll accept a fondle from one, eh? Where's your honor?" 

Grabbing Liam by the back of the neck, Edward tugged him close and thrust his hard prick against Liam's stomach. "Fair's fair. I washed your back, you wash mine."

Liam made a disgusted noise and tried to pull away, but Edward was quick to grab the front of his jacket. "Get that thing away from me, or I'll yell."

If he'd been thinking clearly, Edward would've simply called his bluff; there was no way Liam would call a copper with his own emissions splattered all over a boy in a dress. But like any good harlot, Edward had quick instincts and a knife tucked into his bodice.

The warm, pulsing spurt of blood from Liam's stomach was very much like the spurt of seed from his prick-tip. He tensed and shuddered in the same manner too, and Edward found himself stiffening further at the sight, his body confusing death itself for the approximation of it.

The body slumped to the ground and lay still. Edward lingered for a prolonged moment, looking at the softened, handsome face staring up at the dark sky. There was blood all over the dress now, mingling with the spunk from earlier, and Edward had the mad thought that a person could grow from it, seed nourished by blood. Life from death.

Glancing around to make sure the alley was empty, Edward wriggled out of the dress and began walking in just his old petticoat and drawers. On this night, it wasn't such an odd sight.


End file.
